


Healing Scars

by rujakcuka



Series: kissing a wound [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 12:49:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19724005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rujakcuka/pseuds/rujakcuka
Summary: There were days when they were self-conscious of what had happened and what would happen.





	Healing Scars

**Author's Note:**

> lmao what is this.

There were days when they were self-conscious of what had happened and what would happen.

When it was their day off, Armin would drill his eyes into books until they became tired—be it novel, reference book, nonfiction, everything. Mikasa would train in the backyard of their house and she would only stop if she found her breath became irregular. They didn’t mind. It was their routine since their childhood and it was their way to remind themselves that they wouldn’t go anywhere.

They weren’t going anywhere.

But one day Mikasa noticed that, after she had done with her usual routine, she found Armin sitting on a chair in the kitchen with a thick book and a cup of now-cold coffee on the table. It wasn’t a peculiar sight and she’d expected him to finish reading it at least that night or tomorrow. She looked over at what page he was reading—it was a bildungsroman she knew because he told her about the book he’d been looking for a while in the bookstore before.

She excused herself to take a bath, in case Armin needed something from her. A short nod without even looking was only the response she got.

No one knew but she liked to drown her whole head into the bathtub full of water. She’d been doing it since a few days after they got married last year; she didn’t remember the exact day because it was pointless. Armin only noticed that she washed her hair every day, but didn’t notice how she did it. She would only stop if her head began to feel nauseous and her nostril began to hurt. After that, she would really take a bath, just as she’d told Armin and particularly herself—just because.

She knew it was bad and ugly of herself to find calm from it, but spilling tears continuously in front of Armin and always seeking comfort from her husband weren’t her best choices. Sometimes, when she felt like it, she would cry soundlessly into the water, the bubbles touching her jet-black hair. Her mouth would open wide afterward and she would feel better and worse at the same time.

(She did it today too, of course. What else?)

After getting dressed, she joined the blonde man in the kitchen to prepare the dinner. Armin usually offered himself to help, but now Mikasa let him be, since it wasn’t everyday he could sit in relax. As she was getting the pan, she peered to see what page he was currently at in pure curiosity.

He was at page 167 before Mikasa took a bath and now he was still there.

Some people liked to read a page continuously because of reasons and she’d like to think that way. It was until she saw he looked at the paper in unreadable expression, but she noticed that his blue eyes were darkened, unlike his usual bright blue.

She also perfectly knew that, despite him being a fast reader, Armin also understood things faster.

So Mikasa asked if he was sick or there was something wrong. The blonde man only shook his head in return—in denial, she thought.

Armin was a bad liar.

“Armin,” she said, eyes looking at the raw ingredients she’d bought this morning before training. “If you’d like, why don’t you help me? You said you wanted to eat the mashed potato and curry the other day.”

“Oh—of course, Mikasa,” the man got up and closed his book on the table. “Of course.”

* * *

After a week full of meeting, strategy making, training, and exhaustion, she found Armin still looking at the very same page every time before they went to sleep.

Mikasa wasn’t one who read books as a hobby. It wasn’t like she didn’t like reading them or find them a bore, it’s just she didn’t get used to it in the first place. During their days as cadets in training, Mikasa achieved her first rank not from reading books and manuals in repeat.

She surprised Armin when she uttered one night, pointing at the book on his hand, “I want to read that, since you seem to be fond of it.”

“This is a thick book, Mikasa.”

“I know.”

“You said you didn’t find it appealing when I told you about it before.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she laid her body beside him, looking at him who’s currently seeing the ceiling and thinking. “My thought on that changes, probably.”

“Probably,” he agreed in hesitation before joining her.

* * *

Armin let her read the bildungsroman like she wanted him to.

Mikasa only read it at night and he understood; she was a deadly strong soldier but she was also a human with limitations. Being a veteran drained her energy. But he was surprised when she returned it after four days of reading.

“Did you find it interesting?” he asked.

His wife didn’t shook nor did she nod her head, yet she replied, “It made me think.”

He found her answer intriguing. “You don’t like it that much?”

“No,” Mikasa answered, her tone was flat but it was faster than necessary. “I found a particular part disturbing.”

Armin knew immediately what part she was talking about but decided not to say anything. The woman had found out about the horrifyingly detailed death scene he’d been seeing in his nightmares. It wasn’t only him who’d been fearing it now.

Both of them didn’t finish reading the rest.

* * *

“Mikasa, you should eat.”

Armin came home early one day from the Survey Corps headquarter—Hange told him he spent too much time with his military inventions—and found Mikasa throwing her lunch away, right on her day off. It was the food they made this morning and it’d been heated recently.

“I don’t have the appetite,” she replied shortly, placing her now-empty bowl on the bucket full of dish.

He’d noticed she was like this since she’d done reading his book and it was already a month; he embraced her in her sleep and her stomach let out a loud sound so often he lost count. She trained longer than usual. She didn’t finish her dinner or she told him she’d eat dinner after he went to sleep because she had something else to do. There was a report from another soldier that she threw away her food when working at the headquarter. Her cheeks also looked less plump than usual. Her fragrance became stronger since she suddenly spent her time in the bathroom longer and more frequent than necessary.

There was only a time when she tried to destroy herself like this; when she first found out about Eren’s life span and Armin joining five years after him. No bathroom was involved before, but her face exactly looked like she was at that time. Both of them had failed in forcing her to eat.

Now they were twenty five and it’d been two years since Eren went to somewhere unreachable.

Armin wanted to be angry at himself for seeing her like this, but there was no way she wanted to talk about _that_. They had been tiptoe-ing around that topic since forever.

So he placed a larger bowl of soup and two pieces of garlic bread onto the table. His hand motioned at Mikasa to join him and she did, but she wondered why he picked two pieces of bread.

“We’re eating together, of course,” he answered, followed by a nervous laugh. Armin eyed the soup and, while it was actually delicious, he didn’t find it appealing since he felt— _they felt_ —the tension rising.

Mikasa sighed. “I told you I didn’t want to eat.”

Sometimes she had to realize, Armin thought. “Yet you picked the food first before you threw it away,” he said. “We’ve been taught since childhood that throwing food away is bad.”

“We’re not children anymore.”

“Yeah,” Armin chose to agree, even though he never lost count when it came to his age and his remaining days. He took a spoonful of soup and directed it to her closed mouth. “We’re not, but still—open your mouth, Mikasa.”

She didn’t said anything to respond him and didn’t do what Armin told her to. She was surprised he wanted to feed her himself, though.

“Maybe your mind tells you that you don’t want to eat, but your body needs it,” he was still holding the spoon. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging. The soup’s getting cold.”

She noticed he knew she’d been skipping most of her meals.

“No, Armin,” she finally spoke, a hand on her mouth to prevent him from feeding her. Mikasa was stubborn and strong and determined. “I told you already and that’s it. You don’t have to mind me.”

“Mikasa.”

“No.”

Armin placed the spoon back onto the bowl, his blue eyes looked into her dull, grey eyes and he sighed. “Do I really have to feed you with my mouth so you can eat?”

It was only a blabber so he didn’t expect her to buy it.

“Do it then,” she said impulsively but without any notable expression on her face. “I dare you.”

She also didn’t expect him to buy it, but he was the bravest man she’d ever known—even way more than Eren—and it was what earned him the power of a colossal titan. This was probably nothing compared to that, she thought.

So he bit the bread and put a spoonful of soup into his mouth and his other hand was holding her hands; what happened afterward was quick. Mikasa felt something other than soup and bread on her mouth. It felt overly warm and it caused her cheeks to burn a little but she didn’t mind.

Thinking that debating him was useless, she took the spoon from his hand and began to eat. The meal was never this delicious before. Armin stared at her, embarrassed at himself but then he decided it was worth it.

“Is it delicious?” he asked, eyeing her.

“Yes,” she answered shortly.

“Probably I should get another spoon.”

“You should.”

They ate the rest in silence with small smile both on their face that afternoon. There were days when they became self-conscious and they hadn’t been willing to accept it, but they were getting there. They were getting better.


End file.
